Rainy Afternoon
by MidnightOfTheSoul
Summary: You blink as the drops fall near your eyes and you learn how it feels to have his hand beneath your shirt as he holds tightly to your back.


Title: Rainy Afternoon

Spoilers: None

Characters: E/C Sogginess. Not fluff. Just…wet.

Rating: T

Summary: You blink as the drops fall near your eyes and you learn how it feels to have his hand beneath your shirt as he holds tightly to your back.

A/N: Writer's block anonymous has a president and it's me.

O-O-O-O-O

It starts like this.

It's raining.

You're cold and wet and your shirt is see-through. His gaze traces your figure and you can see by the way his eyes linger that he can appreciate your current physical state. Ignoring him, you continue to shuffle about aimlessly. It's been weeks since you've been alone together, and now you're both trading barbed quips as you wade through debris in a microbe infested swamp.

Romantic.

The tension between you two has escalated recently, especially after… Well, it's best to leave it all behind. As you brush a sodden strand of hair behind your ear you notice part of the plane's phalange wedged in some tall grass and driftwood. You take a step closer to retrieve it and as you do so you hear a distinct suction sound and you feel your thigh-high water boot begin to sink.

You wiggle about futilely for a bit, hoping he won't notice your distress and come closer. He seems to read your thoughts and realizes that you've gotten yourself stuck in a discrete mud pit. Approaching cautiously, he plunges his hands into the mud and struggles for a few moments; then retrieves your waylaid limb. In the process you lose your balance multiple times and must cling to his shoulders to prevent yourself from falling.

As he rises much closer that you anticipated, your hands remain on his shoulders and you stand close, oh so close, and you feel his breath on your cheek. The rain forms rivulets as it trickles down his forehead, his body looming above you in a daunting way. You blink as the drops fall near your eyes and you learn how it feels to have his hand beneath your shirt as he holds tightly to your back. You're unsure as to how it got there, but his other hand brushes the strands of hair that have become stuck to your cheek and you know this is it.

And it is. You've raised up and met him as he pulls you closer to his lips, his hand clasping your jaw line, tight yet delicate. He teases you at first, hovering above your lips but you pull him closer, meeting you head-on. You want this kiss to be out-of-this-world astounding; because that's what you've come to expect should this occasion ever arise.

It isn't how you imagined it would be. There's not a current of electricity or sudden hotness that overwhelms you. It goes deeper and stronger, pulling at something you can't quite name. But it feels like a slow brewing perfection. As his tongue runs over your lips you remember to breathe and claim an unsteady breath as you continue in this warm-blanket feeling that you swear he must also feel. Your hand traces the side of his cheek, your index finger running a line down the side of his face as it brushes over his bristly side-burns.

He moans quietly and you know you make a sound, but it doesn't matter at the moment because the rain is coming down harder now and daylight is beginning to fade and you think something just crawled into your boot. Regardless, you remain with him, absorbing this moment and taking it for all its worth. Your tongue glides over his and you feel his fingers slide briefly beneath your waistband and your hips automatically move towards him.

Now that your hair is blowing about in bursts and your inherent need to ensure that the evidence has been protected, you begin to slow it down and he seems to acquiesce begrudgingly. But not until his hand has roamed over your buttocks once or twice, surveying the prospects. In clear approval, he pulls you up one more time and in an adolescent gesture you wrap your arms around his neck, claiming the last of his kisses before you two must separate.

A clap of thunder breaks you apart quickly and you both quickly gather your things, his hand finding yours as he guides you through the quagmire. Soon the fog will roll in and clarity will be poor. Aware of the impending situation you both secure your items in the hummer and as he closes the door you remain standing in front of each other, both a little shocked at your behavior. Shy smiles follow and without hesitation you draw up closer to him once again and give him a chaste kiss on the lips, and pull away with the keys in your hand and a grin upon your faces. As you make your way back to the lab you've both managed to stumble into a dinner date, albeit at the ethnic deli down the street, and promise to actually discuss the situation.

And as you remain at your table long into the night with cups of dark coffee clasped in your hands, drops continue to splatter against the windowpane, chasing each other in spurts to see who reaches the bottom first.

It goes like that. Or not. Maybe it goes like this…

O-O-O-O-O

A/N: 5 points to whoever gets the Friends reference.


End file.
